Fate stalks us with depressing monotony from womb to tomb, and, when we are least expecting it, deals us a series of crushing blows from behind. – Hesketh Pearson, The Whispering Gallery
Human suffering, while it is asleep, is shapeless. If it is wakened it takes the form of the waker. – Antonio Porchia, Voces, 1943, translated from Spanish by W.S. Merwin